


you'll laugh when you're older

by daenerystargaryenwasright



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, R Plus L Does Not Equal J, not quite slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-04-24 00:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daenerystargaryenwasright/pseuds/daenerystargaryenwasright
Summary: Daenerys suddenly appears by her side, grinning and covered in glitter. If she looks through the crowd hard enough, Sansa can see Jon balancing Theon on his shoulders while Robb tosses peanuts into the air. She knows that if she would glance behind her she’d see Grey and Missandei furiously kissing. Yeah, Sansa thinks, slinging an arm around Dany’s shoulder. This is what being young should feel like.Or the one where Sansa has no idea what she wants out of life, Dany's got an awfully big pair of shoes to fill for someone so small, and everyone goes just a little bit crazy over the idea of growing up





	1. you aren't homophobic, theon's gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go, if anyone reads this at all, please tell me if this is bad or if there are any places I can improve. 
> 
> this story is a product of my insomnia and my fear of college

If Sansa had learned anything from the various former students who’d come to visit the high school — some barely graduates themselves and still cowering at the sight of the evil gym teacher — was that she could not, under any circumstances, miss the first day of any class.

 

About 95% of the time when Sansa claims that things are not her fault they usually are, and she _knows_ that. But this time, it had actually fallen into that rare 5% where whatever god resided above her decided that it was Fuck With Sansa Time. It just so happened that her charger cable had somehow maneuvered out of the specific position that she’d contorted it into before closing her eyes and promptly knocking out. It only charged in that position. Sansa had been meaning to buy a new one since the last few weeks of high school, but it always slipped her mind — _okay_ , Sansa thinks, _maybe it is a bit my fault_. So instead of steadily charging through her power nap, her phone had died, leaving her without an alarm to wake her in time to make it to her final class.

 

It might’ve been funny, Sansa decided, if it had happened to Theon or Jon instead, and if her entire college career didn’t depend on her making it to the lecture hall in the next thirty minutes.

 

 

 

When Sansa rushes into the lecture hall five minutes before class is scheduled to begin she hadn’t expected to see it deserted except for one girl. Sansa freezes, checking her watch and then the old, dusty clock above the doorway. “What the fuck?” She mutters to herself, bending over and resting her hands on her knees as she catches her breath. It was at that moment that the girl seemed to notice her. Sansa straightens up quickly, her face turning a shade of red that could rival her hair once she realizes that the girl is openly staring with what looks like the beginnings of an amused smile.

 

“You must be new here.” The girl grins. Sansa takes in the girl’s blonde hair, almost so light that it’s silver, and decides that perhaps talking to this girl might be in her best interest — which interest is something she isn’t sure about yet. Besides, her voice sounds sweet to Sansa, and she wants to hear more. _You’ve heard nicer voices,_ Sansa reminds herself, shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts.

 

Sansa narrows her eyes as she studies the girl, trying to determine if she’s being teased or not; but she finds no trace of insincerity in the girl’s soft eyes or smile. With a slight shrug, Sansa decides that she can trust the girl, if only until the professor and the rest of the students arrive.

 

“I thought we all were.” Sansa grumbles as she walks up the stairs to get to the row where the girl is sitting. The girl giggles, and her eyes scrunch up. Sansa isn’t quite sure why it makes her heart flutter, but it does.

 

 _Maybe,_ Sansa thinks, _I should’ve been less concerned with getting to this ghost class on time and spent more time worrying about the fact that I’m on the brink of a heart attack_. After all, she has no explanation for the sudden sweaty palms she finds herself wiping on her dirty jeans or the sudden increase in her heart rate, and a heart attack seems like a pretty good excuse to use in case anyone else ever shows up.

 

The girl is quiet for a moment as she stares at Sansa hovering near the end of her row, then she reaches beside her and grabs her backpack, a tattered red thing with something resembling scales on the front pocket and pins scattered across it, from the seat on her left. Some of the pins are printed with things that Sansa has heard of before: climate change, saving the rainforests, global warming. But there are also pins with strange phrases that she assumes must be bands or very odd social justice issues. The girl pats the newly vacant seat beside her and Sansa shrugs and begins shuffling down the narrow isle. Friends are in short supply these days, especially for Sansa, and she wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to make one, even if the girl was a bit odd and liked to sit in empty classrooms and make friends with the first person who ran inside.

 

“Daenerys.” The girl suddenly says, spinning away from her backpack on her other side to face Sansa. For a moment, Sansa thinks that the girl must be giving her a greeting in some odd language and she only tilts her head slightly. But then the girl seems to take notice of Sansa’s confused expression and holds out her right hand. She’s got a strange ring on her ring finger, and her nails are a combination of nicely manicured and chewed to bits. “Sorry! I’m Daenerys.”

 

Sansa’s smile is slow as it spreads across her face and she takes the offered hand. This girl’s — Daenerys, Sansa reminds herself — hands are much smaller than Sansa’s own, but they are also much rougher, and Sansa wonders what she could possibly be up to in her spare time that she’s got hands like Robb.

 

“Sansa Stark.” She doesn’t even realize she’s saying it until Dany repeats it under her breath, testing out the way the syllables fit in her mouth. Neither one says anything after their introductions. No matter how badly Sansa wants a way to continue the conversation, her mind blanks every time she looks over at Daenerys. Daenerys is busy with her phone when a thought flashes in Sansa’s mind. “Daenerys?” The girl hums but doesn’t look up from her phone. Twitter it seems, if Sansa’s quick glance is right. Daenerys’s thumbs are flying across her screen as she argues with someone, and Sansa is already grateful that she chose to make a friend out of the odd blonde. “When I came in, you said that I must be new. How did you know?”

 

Daenerys sets her phone down face up and Sansa can clearly see that the girl has gone over the character limit, by quite a bit judging by the large block of red highlighted text. She manages to catch something about some vegans being classist for shaming people under the poverty line or something before she looks up to meet Daenerys’s eyes. It’s without a doubt something Sansa would have no clue about. Either way, it doesn’t matter because Sansa is neither a vegan who shames poor people nor a woman with any plans of being this girl’s next debate opponent on twitter.

 

“Most freshmen know about Doctor Tyrell’s first day tradition,” Daenerys says. “She comes in a minute before the bell rings and then she takes attendance. Anyone who comes in after her is marked absent. She says she does it so that we get a taste of our own medicine for all the times we’ll make her wait on us in the future, but I think she does it to keep kids from getting kicked.” Daenerys leans close to playfully whisper her last sentence , and Sansa feels that stupid flutter make a comeback. “Stark, right?” She doesn’t give Sansa the chance to reply before she continues. “Not from around here. I’m not surprised you didn’t know.”

 

Sansa opens her mouth to defend herself when Daenerys suddenly beams up at her. “Good thing you’ve got me around now, huh? I can make sure you know all the traditions!” Sansa is almost stricken by how attractive she finds it. She opens her mouth again, this time to ask something that she’d usually ask to get to know someone. But then another sloppy looking student rushes into the room, wide eyed until he glances up at the clock. When Sansa looks back towards Daenerys, the girl is focused on her phone again and the moment is gone. It feels odd to try and get to know Daenerys now that they’re not alone for some reason, so Sansa turns in her seat to face the front of the class and wait for the professor.

 

True to what Daenerys said, the professor walks in barely five minutes before class is supposed to end. She’s old, Sansa immediately notices, but she gives off the complete opposite of a sweet grandma vibe. _She looks like the type to notice you’re having a bad day but only to somehow make it worse for her own amusement,_ Sansa thinks. Beside her, Daenerys lights up again, and Sansa wonders how well Daenerys must know this woman if she’s grinning that big when the professor hasn’t even looked at her yet.

 

“Doctor Tyrell,” The woman says and points at herself. “Weird freshmen.” Her wrists twist to point outward, towards the sea of confused nineteen year olds. “Good afternoon.” The silence stretches and the old woman smirks. “An impolite bunch then.”

 

“Good afternoon, Doctor Tyrell.” The voice is so close that Sansa flinches and wonders if it had come from herself. The students in front of her are turning around and Doctor Tyrell is looking right at her. Sansa begins to sink down in her seat when she realizes that everyone’s eyes are not on her, but the girl sitting beside her. Daenerys is smiling and holding direct eye contact with the professor. “How was your break?”

 

Doctor Tyrell stares in silence and for a moment Sansa is sure that Daenerys is somehow going to be immediately ejected and expelled for daring to openly talk to the professor on the very first day. But Doctor Tyrell’s blank expression melts in to a warm smile. _Now she wants to look like she bakes cookies for kittens_ , Sansa thinks as her eyes dart between them.

 

“Daenerys,” Doctor Tyrell begins. “Why in God’s name are you sitting with the freshmen?” The words shock Sansa slightly. She turns to look at Daenerys and then back at the professor as if she’ll somehow find the answer in the knowing stares being shared between them. “Now that I think of it, why are you in my room at all?”

 

“I haven’t got any classes now. I thought I’d drop by and ask a few questions about a course I’m taking.” Daenerys answers simply.

 

Doctor Tyrell’s eyebrows raise and she moves to sit in her desk chair. “Wouldn’t your councilor be a better fit for that?” Her voice holds nothing but fondness and Sansa knows that however Daenerys knows this woman, she’s got her somehow wrapped around her finger. Daenerys must have a fondness for her too, Sansa thinks, if the wide grin and soft eyes are any indication.

 

“My councilor isn’t you, Doctor Tyrell.” Daenerys says. Her voice is so sickly sweet and innocent and Sansa is blown away by the fact that Daenerys is able to so openly tease a woman who looks like she gives out F’s during finals for fun.

 

“Just shut up while I take attendance. It's the least you can do after invading my class.” Doctor Tyrell says, but she’s smiling again. Her hands reach into her briefcase and come out with an aged notebook. The woman flips to a page and then, as if nothing had happened, began to call out names in a bored tone. She marks things down with a pen that Sansa hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and as soon as she’s done she slaps the book closed.

 

For a minute, nobody moves from their seats. Doctor Tyrell glances down at the watch on her wrist and scoffs. “Get out then! I don’t want you in here for any longer than you need to be!”

 

Sansa watches as the quiet spell is broken and the other freshmen begin to gather their belongings and make for the door. Once the room is half empty and the chatter has died down Sansa stands to leave. A hand darts out and catches her wrist to stop her before she can get farther than a few paces. When she glances behind her, Daenerys is looking up at her with a smile.

 

_Does this girl ever stop smiling?_

 

“Wait! Let me introduce you to Tyrell.” Daenerys’s eyes are sparking with excitement, as if she’d just proposed the idea of a great adventure instead of an introduction with a woman who looks like she bakes children into pies and doesn’t even eat them. Which is why Sansa is at a complete loss when she finds herself nodding. Daenerys’s smile gets impossibly wider and she stands from her seat and shrugs her arms through her worn backpack straps.

 

Now that they’re both standing, Sansa is able to see just how tiny the girl is, and she doesn’t know why she likes it so much.

 

“I think its very important to build a good working relationship with your professors,” Dany teases as she nudges Sansa towards the aisle. “And that begins with introducing yourself so they remember you!”

 

Daenerys seems to forget Sansa is even there when she reaches the front of the oversized desk. The room is empty by now, and this time when the pair make eye contact, Professor Tyrell smiles widely.

 

“Hello, Daenerys. I can honestly say this is a surprise, I didn’t expect to have to start locking my doors to keep you out for another few weeks.” Professor Tyrell’s tone is light, and both Daenerys and her laugh. Sansa tunes out and finds herself watching the way Daenerys moves. She shifts on her feet as she speaks, twists the strange ring as she listens to what Professor Tyrell says, and she throws her head back when she laughs at whatever witty remark the professor had just made.

 

A hand on her upper arm draws Sansa out of her thoughts. Suddenly, both women have their attention on her, and Sansa has no idea if she could even remember how to form words.

 

“This is—“

 

“Sansa Stark.” Sansa has no idea where the sudden bravery has come from. But she tries her best to keep her face from going red as Doctor Tyrell raises her eyebrows and Daenerys chuckles. “Sorry. I’m Sansa Stark and I’m obviously in your class.” Sansa turns and lamely motions towards the general area where she had been sitting with Daenerys only moment before.

 

“Obviously.” Doctor Tyrell repeats. Her tone is serious again, and if Sansa hadn’t seen how the woman was joking and laughing a minute ago she’d think that the old woman had never heard of happiness or a smile in her life. After what feels like the longest stare down in her life, Doctor Tyrell breaks into a smile. “Relax, Miss Stark. I have no intention of chasing away any of Daenerys’s friends. She does that just fine on her own.”

 

Daenerys makes an indignant sound and then the pair is laughing again. Sansa almost excuses herself to leave the pair to talk when Daenerys sighs.

 

“I think we should be going, Professor,” Daenerys says. Professor Tyrell agrees easily. “It was lovely to talk to you. I’m sure I'll be back soon enough.” The blonde turns towards Sansa and tilts her head in the direction of the door. Sansa falls into step beside her like she’d been doing it her entire life.

 

The sun feels nice on Sansa’s skin after sitting inside the air conditioned lecture hall for so long. Daenerys walks beside her quietly, seemingly enjoying the nice weather. Boys on skateboards roll past them and group of girls holding ice coffees sit under the shade of a large tree. _A beautiful day to enjoy with a beautiful girl,_ Sansa’s subconscious says before she can block the thought.

 

“Would you?” Daenerys is looking at her curiously, and it takes Sansa up until that moment to realize that the girl had been speaking. She doesn’t look offended or upset that Sansa hadn’t heard, she only smiles and begins again. “I asked if you wanted to go get coffee. I know a really good place and its loads cheaper than Starbucks.”

 

Sansa almost says no. She should tell the blonde that she’s sorry but she’s got to meet up with her brother and their cousin and their friend so that the three boys can make fun of her for every decision she’s made today — which might be a bit too much information for someone who just asked her to get a cup of coffee — but Daenerys looks so hopeful that she can’t bring herself to turn it down.

 

“Yeah, lead the way.” Sansa says. Daenerys’s smile is positively radiant as she begins to walk again.

 

 

 

The coffee shop isn’t small, but it could be considered a hole-in-the-wall compared to Starbucks. Daenerys tells her that it isn’t a chain store either, and Sansa isn’t sure if thats what would qualify it as a hole-in-the-wall, and honestly, thinking about it too much makes her head hurt. Regardless, when Daenerys pulls open the door open and gestures for Sansa to enter first, she immediately falls in love with the calm atmosphere.

 

“Daenerys!” Both Sansa and Daenerys look towards the counter where a girl with brown hair and bright blue eyes is beaming. The customer standing in front of her looks almost annoyed at her lack of attention, but doesn’t complain when she tells him his total and hands him back his change. They approach the counter next, and Sansa moves closer to Daenerys as the brunette behind the counter greets them. Doreah, her name tag says, but Sansa elects to ignore it before glancing up to the menu.

 

“How are you?” Daenerys asks. She’s smiling as well, and Sansa doesn’t understand why seeing it is suddenly dampening her good mood. “Has work been good?”

 

Doreah shrugs. “Better now that you’re here.” She sends a playful wink at Daenerys, and Sansa begins glancing around the coffee shop for any sign of a number she can call to report unethical behavior. “What can I get for you and your friend then?”

 

“Is now a good time to mention that I’m a tea drinker?” Sansa says. Both Daenerys and the barista giggle.

 

“Earl Grey, English breakfast, or green?” Doreah asks as she pulls a large cup off of the stack. She grabs her sharpie and pulls the cap of her marker off with her teeth. 

 

“Earl Grey.” Sansa replies simply. She shrugs a strap of her backpack off of her shoulder to pull her wallet out, but Daenerys has already stepped in front of her to order some complicated coffee drink that Sansa assumes has more sugar in it than the cereals that Rickon insists on eating for breakfast. Before Sansa can hand a five dollar bill over, Daenerys places a ten in Doreah’s hand. She doesn’t even wait for her change, instead she grabs Sansa’s arm and pulls her towards a table in the back corner of the shop, far enough away from other people that Sansa can’t overhear them, which probably means that they can’t hear her either.

 

They sit down at the two person table, Daenerys sitting with her back against the wall and Sansa sitting with her back to the rest of the coffee shop. The blonde leans forward on the table, resting her chin on her palm. “Sansa Stark,” She says slowly. “Tell me about yourself.” Sansa mentions more than she thought she’d ever tell a girl that she’s only known for an hour. Its not like she gets too personal, but she’s never really told an almost complete stranger the names of all of her siblings’ dogs before.

 

Doreah comes by herself to drop their drinks off. The thanks rolls off of Sansa’s tongue easily, but when she watches Doreah put a hand on Daenerys’s shoulder she frowns. The hand travels from the girl’s shoulder to run through her hair. Doreah departs soon after that, leaving them alone again.

 

 _That’s probably at least four health code violations,_ Sansa thinks as she takes a careful sip from the steaming hot beverage. She almost doesn’t want to admit that Doreah makes practically perfect tea. Almost.

 

Daenerys seems to have a never ending list of questions that she asks. Sansa barely gets a breath in between all her answering and laughing that she does every time Daenerys makes a joke. She isn’t sure how long they’ve been sitting at the tiny table, but Doreah has already brought them two refills each, which she claims are on the house. Sansa is on her third cup, half empty and lukewarm from neglect, when her phone begins to vibrate in her sweater pocket. She pulls it out and glances down at the name.

 

“Can I answer this?” Sansa asks, pointing towards the phone.

 

“Be my guest.” Daenerys smiles and takes a sip of her drink.

 

“Where the fuck are you?” Sansa pulls the phone away from her ear and sighs. The boy on the other end is still shouting about her location, and Daenerys looks at her from behind her cup.

 

“Hello to you too, Theon.” Sansa deadpans. “I’m great, thanks for asking.”

 

“Cut the sarcasm, Daria.” The boy warns playfully. “Where are you? Robb is on the brink of being hospitalized from worrying about his precious baby sister.” She hears what sounds like Jon shouting something in the background and she sighs.

 

“Tell him in on my way home. I got a bit distracted by a friend.” Sansa says. She doesn’t miss the smile that Daenerys gives at the term.

 

“Friend?” Theon sounds genuinely confused. “You don’t have any friends!”

 

“Goodbye, Theon.” Sansa hangs up after that, sighing in exasperation. She drops her phone onto the table and looks up at Daenerys, who’s already watching her carefully. She flashes a small smile and rolls her eyes playfully, motioning towards her phone.

 

“Im guessing you have to go?” Daenerys is grinning as she says it. “Your presence is needed elsewhere.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize.” Daenerys says. “This just gives us a solid reason to do this again.” She pulls out her phone and taps on it for a moment before holding it out to Sansa. She takes it, looking down at the screen which displays the number pad. Its almost muscle memory for Sansa to quickly type in her phone number. She hands the phone back when she’s done and says her final goodbye.

 

“I’ll text you.” Is the last thing Daenerys says before Sansa waves and turns to leave the shop. Doreah smiles at her and gives a wave that Sansa easily reciprocates now that the girl is not draped all over Daenerys. Sansa looks up at the sky when she steps outside, and for the first time she realizes just how low the sun has set compared to where it had been when they’d arrived at the shop.

 

Robb was going to kill her

 

 

 

Jeyne is sitting on her bed with a book open on her lap. Sansa knows the girl likes to read, but its so obvious that she’s chosen to ignore the written word in favor of making moon eyes at Theon, who is squished on Sansa’s tiny bed between Jon and Robb. Theon looks uncomfortable every time his eyes wander and happen to land on Jeyne, and Sansa is tempted to let it go on for a few more minutes.

 

_Note to self: tell Jeyne that Theon is gay._

 

Her pity wins out in the end, and she steps through the open door. All three boys cheer when they see her. Robb is the first one off of the bed. He wraps his arms around her and presses kisses all over his face while murmuring about how worried she’d had him. Sansa holds in her comment about how much like their mother the boy is becoming.

 

Jon is next. Sansa appreciates that Jon keeps himself stoned most of the time which means he is usually the easiest on her out of the three. He ruffles her hair and she easily escapes by giving him a weak swat on the shoulder.

 

Theon wrestles her into a headlock and refuses to let go until Sansa says some stupid phrase that he’d made up about him being her favorite.

 

They squish together on Sansa’s bed until Jeyne leaves. That’s when Jon decides that he’s had enough of having Theon half on top of him and he wiggles out of their pile to sit on the other bed. Sansa knows that Jeyne won’t care, and even if she did, Jon certainly didn’t. Once everyone has gotten into dcently comfortable position Sansa begins the play-by-play of her day.

 

She’s too busy trying to remember Daenerys’s complicated coffee order than she doesn’t notice Robb and Jon staring at her with wide eyes. Theon still seems to be listening to her, though.

 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Sansa finally asks. “Well?”

 

Robb snaps out of his stupor before she can ask again. “Sansa, did you say Daenerys?” He asks. Sansa nods her head and crosses her arms over her chest as she waits for a further explanation. “Daenerys Targaryen?”

 

Sansa shrugs. “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me her last name.”

 

“There’s only one girl named Daenerys I’ve ever even heard of.” Jon interjects. “How could you not know that you were making friends with Daenerys Targaryen!”

 

“I don’t get it.” Sansa said. No matter how many times she looked between the two boys she couldn’t understand what had them so riled up.

 

“I’m with the kid.” Theon said.

 

At that, Sansa’s confusion about the situation turns into frustration with Theon. “Kid? I’m older and taller than you!” She snaps. The smirk that spreads on his face shows her that he got the reaction that he wanted from her. “Okay, whatever. What’s wrong with Daenerys?” She turns back towards Robb in hopes of finally getting her answer.

 

“Sans, I mean this in the nicest way possible,” Robb begins. “You are a complete idiot!” Sansa frowns and opens her mouth to retaliate but Robb continues before she can. “Daenerys is the daughter of Chancellor Targaryen!”

 

“What the fuck.” Is all Sansa can get out of her mouth.

 

Its the last thing she gets out for a while.

 

Robb and Jon are too busy running their mouths about what they know about Daenerys and Theon is too busy teasing her. Eventually, Sansa gets so frustrated that she kicks all three of them out and locks the door behind them. She can hear them shuffling around outside the door for a while, then she hears what sounds like a smack followed by a yelp. They leave soon after that.

 

Sansa gets barely five minutes with her thoughts when her phone buzzes. She’s already thinking of every insult she can hurl at Theon through text when she glances down at the message and stops in her tracks.

 

**_Unknown: hi. its daenerys. just wanted you to have my number too :)_ **

 

Sansa doesn’t reply. Instead she saves the number and drops the phone on the bed beside her. It buzzes a second later and she scoops upon her phone to read it.

 

**_Daenerys: thanks for coffee. hope we can do it again soon_ **

 

Sansa's thumbs begin to move and she hits send before she even rereads what she wrote.

 

**_Sansa: me too. maybe next time we can talk about you and you’ll actually let me pay_ **

 

**_Daenerys: we’ll see :)_ **

 

Sansa smiles at the smiley face. She isn't sure why she finds a grown woman using it so adorable, but she does. It fits Daenerys. _She is definitely a smiley face person,_ Sansa thinks as she recalls the sheer amount of smiles that Daenerys had flashed her in their brief amount of time as friends.

 

 

 

The first month and a half of school is surprisingly easy once Sansa develops a rhythm. At least twice a week she’ll meet Daenerys at the coffee shop and they’ll spend a few hours chatting and studying or doing homework together. Sansa never brings up the fact that she knows who Daenerys is, and she can’t help but feel like the girl is glad for it. Even knowing what she knows, sometimes Sansa feels like Robb and Jon have the wrong Daenerys. Nothing about the sweet blonde in front of her screams ‘daughter of the president of one of the top colleges on the east coast’, mostly it says ‘sweet girl who might care a little bit too much about how much water goes into producing a single almond’.

 

Jon and Theon tease her any time she mentions hanging out with Daenerys. She doesn’t quite understand why it makes her so angry when they refer to the girl as her girlfriend, but she’s always immensely thankful for Robb when he steers the conversation back towards complaining about his soccer team and how much of a jackass Joffrey Baratheon is.

 

 

 

Its coming to the end of Sansa’s second month of school and she’s suddenly worried that her hearing is starting to disappear. “Pardon?” She asks, staring at Daenerys with a shocked expression plastered on her face.

 

Daenerys is blushing. “I—I wanted to know if you might want to go out with me? Like a date.” This time, Sansa fells no remorse when she leaps to her feet. Daenerys’s face falls at the quick action. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—“

 

“I’m sorry.” Sansa interjects. “I have to go.” Her hands are shaking as she grabs her books and her laptop. She slings her backpack over her shoulder and bolts for the door, ignoring Daenerys calling her name. Suddenly, all she wants is to crawl under her blankets and sink as far as she can.

 

Maybe an hour into her brooding session, Jeyne comes and goes, on her way to a party of some sort, Sansa ignores the description of where Jeyne is off to just like she ignores the invite.

 

 _I’m the biggest bitch in the world,_ Sansa thinks after her fourth hour of brooding in her bed. _All she did was ask me on a date and I ran off like she just told me she has the plague. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never wants to speak to me again._

 

Once the insults for herself start getting too creative she forces herself to go to sleep. At this point, Sansa’d rather sleep twelve hours straight and be groggy as hell in the morning than stay up and think about how she acted all over a simple date proposal.

 

Sansa wakes up the next morning, a Saturday, with a sudden bravery that only seems to make itself known when the blonde is involved. She dials Daenerys’s number quickly, before she loses her nerve and ruins the only friendship she has besides Jeyne. Sansa doesn’t even realize she’s holding her breath until she hears Daenerys’s soft hello and she exhales.

 

“I’m sorry.” Sansa sighs.

 

’No! Don’t be sorry,” Daenerys exclaims. “It’s all my fault. I’m really sorry, Sansa. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

 

“No, I’m not offended,” Sansa replies. All of her bravery is gone and now she doesn’t know what to say to make Daenerys stop sounding so sad. “Its just…I’m not like _that_ —“

 

“Like _what_?” Daenerys’s voice turns hard and Sansa winces.

 

_Way to go dumbass! Now you’ve acted like a bitch and offended her in under twenty-four hours!_

 

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just…I’m not into girls.”

 

Daenerys laughs on the other end of the line, but it doesn’t sound anything like the carefree sound that Sansa had grown used to hearing. “You could’ve just said no, Sansa. I know how to take no for an answer.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.” And she really means it. The last thing she wants is to permanently ruin her relationship with Daenerys.

 

“It’s okay. I’ll see you around, okay?” Daenerys doesn’t wait for an answer before the line cuts off. Sansa sighs and tosses her phone onto the bed beside her.

 

“Way to go! Now she probably thinks you’re homophobic!” Sansa cries out loud to her empty room. She grabs the closest pillow and slaps it over her face in frustration.

 

“You’re homophobic?” Jeyne’s voice startles Sansa more than the redhead would care to admit and the pillow goes flying across the room as she bolts upright. Her roommate is standing in the middle of the room with only a towel wrapped around her body, clearly just having returned from the showers and Sansa glares down at the puddle forming under Jeyne’s shower shoes.

 

“What? No! I’m not homophobic! Theon’s gay!” Sansa exclaims.

 

“Damn it.” Jeyne curses under her breath and snatches a shirt from the back of a chair. Sansa doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it doesn’t belong to her. She also doesn’t bother bringing up how quickly Jeyne forgot about the homophobia question.

 

 

 

Monday is coffee day. Sansa knows that they didn’t make any concrete plans to meet today, especially after the date fiasco, but she’d be practically throwing her friendship with Daenerys in the trash if she didn’t show.

 

 _If Daenerys doesn’t show up then its understandable. But if you don’t show up it’ll look bad; you are the homophobic one after all,_ Sansa thinks. She frowns at the new voice, which happens to sound an awful lot like Jeyne.

 

_What the fuck? You aren’t homophobic! Theon’s gay and he’s one of your best friends!_

 

_That’s exactly what a homophobic person would say!_

 

_I’m not homophobic!_

 

Sansa doesn’t even realize that she’s been having a full conversation in her own head until someone clears their throat in an attempt to get past her. She blushes and apologizes to the woman. She enters after her, glancing around the coffee shop. Her eyes land on the back corner table, their table, and her breathing hitches at the sight of Daenerys sitting at the table, her chin propped up on one hand while the other scrolls on her phone.

 

The walk to their table is awkward. Daenerys has two cups in front of her, and she looks up once Sansa is close enough to pull out her chair if she wanted. The smile that Daenerys gives her is tentative and nothing like the bright ones she’s used to. Still, the blonde sets her phone down and pushes one of the cups across the table. Her smile less hesitant and more soft. They hold eachother’s gaze for a moment longer before Daenerys tilts her head towards the coffee cup.

 

‘As friends.” Is all she says.

 

Sansa looks from the cup to Daenerys’s face. Her decision was made the second she stepped into the shop. “Okay,” Sansa nods, her hand reaches out to grab the back of her chair to pull it out. she sinks into it and wraps her hands around her tea, pulling it closer to her chest. Daenerys’s smile brightens.

 

“As friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope it wasn't too bad


	2. that would sound a lot more reassuring if each trick didn’t take you thirty fucking minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the second chapter. let me know what you think.
> 
> sorry it took so long i forgot to post this despite it being done for around three days?

They aren’t perfect after that day in the coffee shop. Sansa can’t help but notice the times she sometimes catches Daenerys looking at her. Anytime she does, the blonde quickly apologizes and looks away. Sansa doesn’t know how to explain the feeling of disappointment she feels every time Daenerys pulls back again, just when they’re on the brink of touching or sharing a straw or anything that friends would usually do.

Its not all bad though. Daenerys still smiles like she’s in competition with the sun, and she still makes the same amount of jokes that have Sansa giggling until her sides hurt and she feels like she can’t breathe. 

And so two tentative weeks pass between them, full of odd glances and soft smiles when caught looking.

 

 

 

In what Sansa considers a moment of weakness, she goes to Theon, of all people. _I have never in my life made a mistake like this one,_ Sansa thinks as a shit eating grin spreads across Theon’s face. He immediately calls Daenerys her girlfriend and Sansa can envision her hands around his stupid, skinny neck if she closes her eyes and tries hard enough to tune him out. He talks for an hour straight, lecturing her about how her sexuality doesn’t make her any less of the person than she was before or whatever bullshit he comes up with. He uses his closing statement to tell Sansa that he’s overjoyed that they can finally be something he calls “homo buddies”, and that’s the last straw for the girl.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sansa snaps. She suddenly feels like going to Jon and being forced to watch his roommate stumble through his magic routine would’ve been a better alternative to where she is now. Hell, She’d probably sooner call up Arya and tell her everything than sit and listen to Theon call the two of them the apex of the gay rights movement at WestU.

 

Theon grins. “Just getting your attention. I believe you when you say you don’t like girls, Sans,” He pauses for a moment. “Well, at the very least, I respect you enough to not contradict you every time you say it. Look, just tell this girl that you want to braid her hair and maybe platonically kiss her; I promise everything will turn out fine. And if you _do_ decide you want to be repressed for the rest of your life, she seems like she understands boundaries and that no means no. Now get out, I have to study.”

 

Sansa rolls her eyes but still stands up and moves towards the door. ‘Next time just say you want to take a nap and I’ll leave the first time.”

 

Theon blows a kiss at her and Sansa sticks up her middle finger, but a grin is already spreading on her face as she pulls the door closed behind her. Sansa walks towards the rickety elevators and jabs her finger against the old plastic button, ignoring the sound of guys whooping loudly in a room followed closely by a loud crash. She steps into the open doors and hits her floor number. They live in the same building, but no one could have paid Sansa to live any closer to Theon than three floors above him. 

 

_I can’t talk to Daenerys about Daenerys,_ Sansa thinks as she flops onto her bed. For some reason, Sansa is almost certain that Daenerys still would still give the most useful and least biased advice despite being the subject of the problem. Jeyne is taking a power nap, and she snoring. Loudly. Sansa tosses a pillow across the room and hits the girl directly in the face. Jeyne stops snoring, but only to shove the pillow away and roll to turn her back to Sansa. Half a minute later she’s at it again.

 

“Stupid cow.” Sansa grumbles. _Who goes to sleep at two in the afternoon on a Tuesday? Doesn’t she have a class right now?_

 

“Fuck off.” Jeyne replies. Sansa would find it funny if the damned girl didn’t go right back to snoring. 

 

_Library it is,_ Sansa decides. The library is good. Theon is banned for another week for attempting to hook up with someone in the basement, and Jon is probably still being chained to his desk by Samwell Tarly. As for Robb, he’s probably off chasing one of the million girls he’s seen in passing and decided he was in love with. Sansa had always connected with him over just how much of hopeless romantics the pair of them were. But right now, all Sansa wants to do is connect with her favorite desk — which is luckily empty when she approaches it.

 

She tries to study, she really does. But almost every other sentence seems to make her think of Daenerys, so she gives up and slams her book shut, wincing at the loud noise. Her phone is her next option. Its mostly pictures posted by old high school friends, posing with their shiny new college friends and holding red cups that are no doubt filled with alcohol. Sansa double taps them anyway, and she knows that those girls will do the same for her whenever she decides to post something. Even if they won’t remember each other’s names by winter break.

 

A picture of her siblings crosses her timeline, and Sansa grins. They must’ve let Rickon pick where they went for dinner the previous night, because Sansa can see the bright lights of arcade games behind them. Her sister, Arya, is on the right, not smiling but not quite scowling at the camera. Bran is to her left, his hands resting on his wheelchair wheels. He’s smiling, not quite at the age where he thinks smiling is uncool like Arya does. Rickon is standing behind them, absolutely beaming. Sansa feels a wave of fondness wash over her at the gap where one of Rickon’s baby teeth had previously been.

 

There was not a person in the family, from their father to Bran, who didn’t have a soft spot for Rickon. The boy himself seemed to favor Sansa and Robb, which in turn made Sansa favor him as well. After their father died, Rickon, at barely two years old, had been the one to practically piece the family back together, not that he knew he was doing it. She missed Rickon terribly, and she was sure he missed her just as much. _I wonder who sneaks him cookies before dinner and reads his bedtime stories now,_ Sansa thinks. She can’t imagine Bran or Arya or even their mother sitting against Rickon’s headboard and reading a story in funny voices that would surely embarrass them if anyone ever heard. She can imagine Arya sneaking cookies, but thats only because the girl thinks rules are just a suggestion.

 

Her thumb taps the screen twice in quick succession. The heart pops up on her screen and Sansa rereads her mother’s caption. She calls them her pups, always has. It had been a tradition started by their father, and it had continued after he died.

 

Sansa likes her mother’s instagram account. Sure, its very obvious that a woman in her forties owns it, but its filled with pictures of her family. If Sansa scrolls back, she can find pictures from Robb’s high school graduation and probably even older. It’s like a portable photo album. And whenever Sansa feels like she misses her family a bit too much to bear she can scroll through and laugh at the funny pictures she finds there. Each child gets a birthday post every year, but some are as random of Saturday morning breakfasts where Rickon had decided that he wanted to help and had slightly burned the pancakes.

 

After what Sansa feels is an adequate amount to have pretended to study, it’s coffee time. She briefly considers walking all the way to the coffee shop, but decides on the Starbucks on the ground floor of the library. It’s late enough that all the tables in the tiny store are filled with students typing furiously on their laptops with no less that two cups beside them, but its also early enough that the line is barely a few people long. The barista has blonde hair.

 

_Daenerys’s is prettier._

 

Sansa shakes the thought out of her head and accepts her change with a polite smile. She moves off to the side to wait for her drink when her phone buzzes. She pulls it out and reads the notification, a text from Daenerys. The smile that spreads across her face is involuntary.

 

**_Daenerys: guess who’s got great news! meet me in the circle?_ **

 

Sansa is too busy agreeing to read the name on the cup that she grabs as soon as the barista sets it down. She brings it to her lips just as she hits send and takes a careful sip of the hot liquid. Her tastebuds almost scream at her for allowing something so disgusting into her mouth. Its not gross in the way she imagines Daenerys’s drinks to be, too sugary and unnaturally sweet. Whatever’s in this cup tastes bitter and like someone dropped a handful of dirt into it before serving. “That’s disgusting. Who would ever want to drink something like this?” Sansa grumbles to herself as she prepares to ask the barista to remake the drink.

 

“Probably someone named Margaery who just watched her drink get stolen by a pretty girl.”

 

Sansa spins around to face the owner of the new voice. She feels her face heat up until she’s sure she’s as red as her hair. The girl, who is smirking at Sansa, is shorter than her, but no where near as short as Daenerys. She’s got pretty brown hair thats pulled back into a ponytail, and her eyes are a clear light blue. Nothing like the shades of purple that Daenerys’s appear to be, Sansa reminds herself.

 

_Stop comparing her to Daenerys!_

 

“I—I’m sorry,” Sansa squeaks. She moves to hold out the cup before she remembers that she’s already put her mouth on it. “I wasn’t paying attention. I’m so sorry. Let me buy you another one.”

 

The girl, Margaery, laughs and shakes her head. She reaches out and takes the cup from Sansa’s hand and sets it on the counter beside them. “That’s alright. They’ll remake it for free.”

 

_Of course they’ll remake it! How did you forget that they remake drinks?_ Sansa thinks. She’s still staring at the girl with wide eyes, unsure of what to do next.

 

“I’m still really sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?’ Sansa asks.

 

The girl’s smirk returns and Sansa feels like she’s just been caught in a net, but instead of panic, she feels oddly curious about what this girl might request. “If you’re really that eager to spend money on me, lets go somewhere nicer,” She pauses and leans closer. “And lets call it a date.”

 

There it is, that word that almost made her run back home like Forrest Gump when Daenerys used it. “Date?” She squeaks. The door is suddenly so far away, and this girl is blocking her path and there’s suddenly so many people in the shop that she’ll never get passed all of them without causing a scene. With no other way out, Sansa slowly nods her head.

 

Margaery’s unreadable expression turns into a smile.

 

_It’s pretty, but it’s not Daenerys’s_

 

“Great! Call me!” Before Sansa can question how, Margaery has requested a pen from the barista. He hands it over easily, with an almost lovesick look on his face. She scrawls her number and her initial on Sansa’s forearm and then smiles as she recaps the pen. A if on autopilot, Sansa begins to move for the door.

 

A hand catches her wrist and Sansa spins around. Margaery is holding up her forgotten cup. She hands it over, smirking again at Sansa’s blush. “Bye, Sansa.” Sansa doesn’t even need to question how the girl knows her name, she’s too busy questioning the stupid way the barista spelled her name.

 

 

 

It’s easy to spot Daenerys. She’s the only one with silver hair, and also because her backpack sticks out like a sore thumb.

 

They never spend any time in either of their rooms. Daenerys always seemed to find a way to dodge Sansa’s proposals to go back to her room and Sansa doesn’t even know if Daenerys lives on campus or if she lives in an apartment with roommates. They spend most of the time they’re together at the coffee shop or the circle. The circle is just a large area in the middle of the campus. It’s a ring of large oak trees with a grassy center, and Daenerys seems to love it more than any other place they’ve tried hanging out.

 

Sansa can see the textbook perched on Daenerys’s lap, but she knows that the girl is probably scrolling through twitter instead of actually studying. Daenerys is a law student, that’s something that Sansa can guess from the textbooks she’s seen the girl carry. She’s also a sophomore like Jon. It had taken three coffee dates to get that out of the blonde.

 

She’s right. Daenerys looks up when Sansa approaches, and her textbook slides down. Her phone falls onto the soft grass near her leg and she hurries to pick it up.

 

“Studying hard then?” Sansa grins. Daenerys shakes her head and Sansa sinks down beside her. Their shoulders brush as she gets comfortable, and a rush of warmth surges through her. But just as quickly as it had come, Daenerys scrambles to but distance between them and its gone. Sansa feels her smile dim a bit, but it returns at full force when Daenerys turns to face her with her own excited smile.

 

“What? Did a mysterious billionaire donate their fortune to one of those charities that you’re always talking about?” Sansa teases.

 

“No. But keep saying it and it might happen,” Daenerys playfully shoves at her shoulder. “Doctor Tyrell wants me to meet her granddaughter, Margaery, apparently she goes here too and Tyrell thinks we’d get along if we met under the right circumstance.” Sansa freezes with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. The pen ink suddenly feels like its burning through her skin. It might be a coincidence, there might be more than one girl named Margaery on campus, but the dread that Sansa feels somehow tells her that its the same girl.

 

She pushes it down, ignores the way that her forearm calls her attention under her sweater sleeve. She tells Daenerys about Jeyne’s crush on Theon which hasn’t faded since finding out he was gayer than Elton John. She tells Daenerys about Jon’s roommate and his pursuit of a side career as a magician while he gets his medical degree. She sets her cup down between them and begins telling a story about how Robb had tried to take a girl out on a date only to find out that she was allergic to strawberries halfway through. They’re both laughing so hard by the end of it that Sansa gives no thought to what she’s doing when she pushes her sleeves up to her elbows.

 

Daenerys’s smile fades and Sansa follows her gaze down to her own forearm. Out of sheer panic, she grabs her sleeve and tugs it down. Daenerys doesn’t even look up at her, only grabs her arm and tugs the sleeve up again. She studies the writing, its loopy and slightly tilted. obviously a girl’s, and Sansa knows that Daenerys can tell.

 

“What’s that?” Daenerys asks. Sansa knows that the girl is already putting things together in her head judging by her tone. “You got a phone number. A new friend?”

 

Sansa has absolutely no clue why she does it, she really doesn’t know why she doesn’t just shut her mouth and let Daenerys think whatever she wants. “A date.” Sansa blurts. Daenerys’s eyes move to her face, and Sansa snatches her arm back like she’s been burned. “I have a date. Her name is—“

 

“Oh.”Daenerys looks away, and Sansa takes the opportunity to tug her sleeve down. The hurt is clear in her voice, but when she turns back to Sansa she’s got a smile on her face. “Well go on. What’s her name?”

 

Sansa wishes that she wouldn’t be so supportive. She wants Daenerys to maybe scream at her and never speak to her again or call her a bitch for lying or do _anything_ other than try to be a supportive friend. Sansa wants to shake her head and refuse to tell Daenerys, she wants to laugh it off like some sort of joke and never bring it up again, but instead she sighs and tells Daenerys.

 

“Margaery, huh? What a small world.” Daenerys’s weak laugh doesn’t sound anything like her normal one, it sounds like it pains her to get the noise out. “At least I’ve got a reason other than old Tyrell to get along with her, right? I have to be friends with my friend’s girlfriend.”

 

“It might not even be the same Margaery.” Sansa says, like that helps anything. The look Daenerys sends her is scalding. She flinches and raises her cup to her lips, but its empty, so she sets it between them again.

 

“I’m sorry. It was really sudden and—“

 

Daenerys cuts her off before she can try and explain and somehow end up in a deeper hole. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault that you didn’t know you were into girls before.” She begins gathering her things and Sansa doesn’t know what she could possibly do to get the girl to stay. “Enjoy your date.” The blonde snatches up the empty cup before Sansa can pick it up to fiddle with it.

 

_To throw it away, probably. Even when she’s hurt she still thinks about the stupid planet_

 

“Daenerys, wait.” Sansa reaches out to grab the girl’s wrist before she can escape. “I really am sorry.”

 

They’re both quiet for a moment, and Sansa thinks that the girl might sit down again.

 

“I’ve already told you there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Daenerys says. She pulls her arm away from Sansa’s weak grip. “I have to go. I’ve got lots of homework to do. I waited a bit too long to take care of it. I’ll see you around.”

 

Sansa watches her walk away, and she _does_ throw the cup into the trash can. She doesn’t know why ‘I’ll see you around’ feels more like ‘I’ll never get to see Daenerys Targaryen ever again’. It’s probably her dramatic side jumping out, but she still worries that for once its right.

 

Her first choice is Theon, but as soon as she thinks about their conversation in the morning she rules him out. The last thing she needs is another hour long speech about how his gaydar has never failed him before and was once again right. Robb is next, but he’d just go crazy at the thought of his baby sister going on a date without having Margaery come to him to ask for permission first. _Jon it is then,_ Sansa thinks. She stands, and suddenly becomes aware of the boy sitting under the tree next to them. He gives her a sympathetic smile and it’s obvious that he’d been listening to their argument. She only narrows her eyes at him and hurries out of the circle.

 

 

 

Jon’s door is unlocked, so Sansa walks in without knocking. Jon’s eyes light up at the sight of her, but the light quickly dims when Sam moves the deck closer, still expecting him to pick a card. Sam’s girlfriend is sitting beside Jon, nodding encouragingly every time Sam nervously pauses and glances over at her. “Sam, my cousin is here, so why don’t you try on Gilly while—“

 

“Please, Jon. I’ve got a birthday party in a week.” Sam pleads. Jon gives an exasperated sigh and snatches a card from the middle of the deck. He hands it off to Gily and attempts to walk away, but the girl places a hand on his forearm and with another sigh he sinks back into the bed. Sansa watches as Sam shuffles the deck then turns towards her. He’s sweating, far more than anyone should while performing what looks like a basic card trick. But as a person who knows no card tricks, Sansa feels like it isn’t her place to judge his methods.

 

“Mind cutting the deck?” He asks and holds out the cards. She glances over his shoulder, first at the girl and then Jon. The girl nods at her while Jon mouths something that look suspiciously like curse words or a plea for help, perhaps both. With a shrug, Sansa grabs half of the deck and places it in the man’s other hand. He does a slightly sloppy shuffling trick, then he takes the card back from Gilly. He slides it into the middle deck and turns to Jon again. Jon gives the fakest smile that Sansa has even seen and she can’t help but giggle at her cousin’s misfortune.

 

“Is this your card?” Sam sounds triumphant when he holds up the card to the pair of them. Gilly is already beaming and applauding, but Jon remains silent. He glances at the card, then at Sam, and then Sansa.

 

“No.” Jon says. “Can I go now?” He moves towards Sansa as soon as Sam’s attention is off of him. He reaches out for his coat that’s hung on the back of the door and begins searching for his favorite hat. He finds it quickly and slaps it onto his head. He’s halfway through shoving his arm into his coat when Sam turns to him.

 

“No?” The arm holding the card lowers slightly. “No?” He sounds crestfallen.

 

“Jon’s just joking, Love,” Gilly says. She stands, takes the deck from his hand, and then sets it on the desk beside her. Once both their hands are free she links her fingers with his. “You did amazing. I’m sure if you ask nicely he’ll let you try again and he’ll be serious.”

 

Sam looks at Jon again, like a puppy, and the curly haired boy sighs. “Please Jon? Just one more time?”

 

“That would sound a lot more reassuring if each trick didn’t fucking take you thirty fucking minutes, Sam!” Jon snaps, but he still walks back over to the bed without even bothering to remove his hat and coat. He looks downright miserable as Gilly hands her boyfriend the deck.

 

“Another time then?” Sansa says. Jon looks up at her and she swears that the boy would genuinely rather be dead than spend another moment watching his roommate dangle cards in front of his face. It’s not until she’s riding the elevator to the ground floor that she worries that Daenerys might be living there. She’s in the same year as Jon, but then again Sansa isn’t even sure if Daenerys lives in a dorm or not.

 

Jon really isn’t any help when he’s stoned and being assaulted by playing cards shoved in his face. _Better than whatever you would be gotten if you went to Theon,_ Sansa reminds herself.

 

She glances down at her arm, and then pulls her phone out of her pocket. Sansa hits the call button and holds the phone to her ear. The dial tone plays, and Sansa wonders whether the girl will pick up at all.

 

She does, but she sounds like she can barely hear. Judging by the loud noises in the background, she can’t.

 

“Is now a bad time? I can call you later?” Sansa says.

 

“No, now is good. What’s up?” Margaery asks. Theres shuffling on the other end and then the background noise quiets. “Thinking of going back on our date?”

 

Sansa swallows. ‘No. I called to ask you to go out with me right now. Let me take you out tonight.” She suddenly feels brave, but it feels different that when she feels brave around Daenerys. She has no clue what makes her brave around the blonde, but she knows that she feels brave right now because she has absolutely nothing to lose except self respect, which she already barely has.

 

Margaery laughs, but it sounds sweet. ‘Yeah, okay. Pick me up at seven.” Sansa grins and is just about to hang up when Margaery stops her. “Oh, and Sansa, keep the confidence. I like it.” The line goes dead and Sansa spins on her heel.

 

_Guess I’m going to Robbie’s room after all,_ Sansa thinks. _He’s gonna let me borrow his car or I’m telling mom that he’s the one who taught Rickon how to say fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this (asking a girl out, having her tell you she isn't interested in girls, and then finding out she began dating a girl) actually did happen to one of my friends, which is where I got the idea from.


	3. pretty men, pretty girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's chapter three. sorry it took so long, but I've been busy with college registration stuff. 
> 
> once again, if you enjoy it then please let me know. also let me know if you hate it, i'd love to improve where I can
> 
> I do all this without a beta reader or any help so any advice is greatly appreciated

Robb gives up his keys easily enough. She doesn’t even have to bring up her threat. It’s honestly better for her, now she gets to keep it for something else in the future. He hadn’t even asked where she planned on going, all he requested was that she fill up the tank before giving it back. A small price to pay considering how protective Robb seems to be of his car. Sometimes Sansa thinks that he worries more about his transmission fluid than he does about some of his siblings.

 

_That’s not true,_ Sansa admits as she walks down to the car, twirling the key ring around her finger. It really isn’t. Robb was always protective of them, and it had only increased when their father had died. He’d been the one to accompany Arya to her father-daughter dance back in sixth grade, when her teachers had all called a meeting with their mother to tell her that they thought it would be best for Arya to go as a way to get her out of her “down spell”. Sansa hadn’t gone, but sometimes when they’re all in the right mood to talk to each other and be nice Arya will tell her the story.

 

_We walked in, took one look around, burst out laughing at all the uncomfortable middle-aged guys in bad suits and then left. Robb took me to the arcade and then we went go-kart racing and got ice cream._ Sansa can hear Arya’s voice in her head. It always sounds softer when she talks about that memory, more like she sounded before the accident. Sansa, who was fourteen when it had happened, didn’t require quite the same attention from Robb that Bran and Arya — at seven and eleven respectively — did, but she still had her own memories of Robb taking her out to art museums that he didn’t quite understand or to see dumb teenage romance movies with her if only to hold her hand while she cried in the back row.

 

He really was the best big brother she could’ve asked for, even if he was a bit stupid and thought with the wrong head sometimes.

 

 

 

Jeyne is in their room, sitting at her desk with textbooks spread out and her laptop open. A paper, judging from the word document and the general air of stress that surrounds her. _Probably due soon,_ Sansa thinks. Notes are strewn across the girl’s bed, across the floor, even on Sansa’s bed. She doesn’t even flinch when Sansa approaches and rests a hand on her shoulder. Instead, she sighs and spins in her seat.

 

“At least one of us is in a good mood.” Jeyne grumbles. Sansa laughs as the girl stands and stretches. “ _Why_ are you in such a good mood anyway?” She stumbles over to her bed, stiff from the hours she spent in her wooden desk chair. Sansa has a better one, and she constantly urges Jeyne to use it whenever she has to sit for long periods of time, but the girl is stubborn about it; no matter how many times Sansa has told her that it was a stupid gift from her mother that was unnecessary and she _wants_ Jeyne to use it so it doesn’t gather dust.

 

“Im not in a good mood.” Sansa replies quickly, trying to relax her face. “Why are you in a good mood?”

 

Jeyne gives her a look that could burn through steel. “I’m in a good mood because I forgot all about this paper and its due at midnight. I’m overjoyed because my back hurts like shit. I’m absolutely giddy because I haven’t eaten since ten,” She takes a deep breath and looks towards Sansa again. ‘So I’m going to ask again, because I need to hear good news or my heart will turn to stone, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

 

Sansa considers not telling her, she also considers telling her the truth. She settles on lying.

 

“I won a bet with Robb about Jon’s weird roommate. He owes me twenty bucks.”

 

Jeyne groans like she’d be expecting something more interesting. Sansa watches as she grabs the stacks of notes and tosses them behind her. The sheets of paper fly across the room as she drops face down onto her bed. “That’s it? That’s what rich people get up to?”

 

Sansa laughs again. “No. We usually trade our boats and fancy cars like trading cards” Jeyne flips her the finger without even sitting up. “Hey, I’ll give you the twenty if you could help me with something.”

 

“You’ve got my attention.” Jeyne says as she drags herself up. Now that Jeyne is looking at her with her full attention, Sansa feels herself turn red and she has no desire at all for the other girl’s help. “C’mon, Sansa! You can’t get me excited and then leave me hanging.”

 

As calmly as she can, Sansa clears her throat and prepares her request. “What do I wear to go out?”

 

“What?” Jeyne asks. She stares up at Sansa with a completely blank look on her face to match the one Sansa is giving her in return. “I need more information than that. Where are you going? Who are you going with? Is it a date?” A smile spreads across Jeyne’s face slowly as she takes Sansa’s sudden silence for an answer, and Sansa curses internally. “A date? A date! Who’s the lucky guy?”

 

She’s as red as a tomato, Sansa knows she is. _I can’t believe I’m gonna have to give her twenty dollars because I lied and then was stupid enough to tell the truth,_ Sansa thinks. _Twenty dollars just to get made fun of._

 

“I never said it was a date, you did,” Sansa snaps. “And if you’re going to make fun of me then forget it.”

 

“No!” Jeyne yelps and leaps off of her bed with agility that she certainly hadn’t possessed when she hobbled over to her bed in the first place. “Sansa, please let me help you. I would literally rather do anything than that fucking paper!” There’s silence as Sansa considers the offer along with the girl’s puppy dog eyes. “You don’t even have to give me the twenty.”

 

Sansa sighs. “You know I’m giving you the twenty no matter what.”

 

The smile that spreads over Jeyne’s face is blinding. “Love you, Sansa!” She throws her arms around the taller girl and squeals again.

 

“Sure, now tell me what to do.” Sansa rolls her eyes fondly and sits on her bed as Jeyne pulls open one of her drawers.

 

 

 

“Twenty dollars to look exactly like I look everyday.” Sansa grumbles to herself as she walks down to Robb’s car after being wrangled around by Jeyne for the better part of an hour. “Jeans and a t-shirt. I could’ve figured out jeans and a t-shirt. She didn’t even let me put my hair up. The _one_ time I want to put my hair up and she says no!” She looks up when she unlocks the door, and notices the group of three girls sitting in the car next to her who had just heard her entire rant. The moment she makes eye contact with the one in the passenger seat, the girl lifts her hand and clicks the lock. She can’t even find it in herself to apologize for acting crazy, instead she pulls out of her parking spot quickly, narrowly avoiding hitting another parked car.

 

_Hey, you asked for help and you got it. Don’t complain,_ The voice that sounds like Jeyne says.

 

_Fair enough._

 

It’s six thirty and Sansa’s at her favorite gas station — which is just the only gas station that has gas for under four dollars — when she realizes that she doesn’t even know where to get Margaery. _Certainly can’t ask Daenerys,_ Sansa thinks, then immediately scolds herself over the thought. She pulls out her phone to text the girl, but there’s already a message there, sent in the middle of Jeyne’s attack with a blowdryer. An address and an x, not quite a smiley face, but sansa finds it adorable regardless.

 

Margaery lives close to the campus, in a large house. At seven o’ clock sharp, Margaery exits the front door, apparently talking to someone still inside. Sansa doesn’t even have time to pull out her phone to text. Margaery approaches the car, but instead of getting in, she leans in through the open window. “Punctual, I like that.” She smirks, then pulls the door open.

 

_Jeans and a t-shirt this, jeans and a t-shirt that. You talked so much shit and she’s wearing the same fucking thing!_

 

_That’s different._

 

_How,_ the voice sounds unimpressed.

 

_She’s pretty._

 

_Ugh. Maybe Theon was right about you being a raging homo._

 

“Where to?” Margaery asks once she’s buckled her seatbelt. When Sansa makes no move to drive nor answer the question she giggles. “You know, an art gallery is open right now. It’s not too far.”

 

“What a coincidence because I thought I’d take you to that exact art gallery.” Sansa exclaims. She puts the car into drive and makes it to the next light. “Margaery?”

 

“Yes, Sansa?”

 

“You look very nice.” Sansa says.

 

“Thank you, Sansa.” Margaery replies. Sansa glances over at her and finds it difficult to look away when Margaery’s eyes meet hers. _Have they always been that blue,_ Sansa thinks. “Sansa?” The girl adds.

 

“Yes?”

 

“The light’s green.” A horn honks behind them and Sansa slams her foot on the gas. Margaery laughs as the car jerks forward, and even though Sansa is mortified at driving like she’s barely got her license, the sound makes her feel warm. The laughter dies down to quiet conversation about school until the next red light.

 

“Hey, Margaery?” Sansa says again, this time keeping her eyes firmly on the traffic light.

 

“Yes, Sansa?” Her voice is so sweet that Sansa almost loses her focus. _One look won’t hurt._

 

“Where’s the art gallery?”

 

Margaery laughs again. “Turn left at the next light.” The light turns green and Sansa carefully accelerates.

 

Margaery turns out to be an excellent copilot, because they arrive at the art gallery in one piece. They walk up to the door side by side, and Sansa tries to sneak glances at the girl beside her as they do. She looks pretty, _Might be the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen if you didn’t know Dae—_ she shakes her head slightly to rid herself of the thought, and pulls the door open.

 

“Thank you,” Margaery says as she steps inside. The room is air conditioned, and an older lady is sitting at the front desk, look bored out of her mind as she constantly clicks her computer mouse. It honestly looks more like a doctor’s or dentist’s office than a place where she would find an art gallery, but Margaery doesn’t even get a full sentence out before the old woman points down a hallway and resumes her activities.

 

Sansa is taken aback by how different this new room is than the first one. It’s large and empty except for the dozens of frames hung on the wall and a few sculptures places on pedestals. The room is far from crowded, but there are already three people talking to who Sansa assumes is the artist and another few slowly making their way around the room. Margaery grabs her arm again and pulls her towards the first painting, a garden.

 

“I like this one, it reminds me of home.” Margaery sighs wistfully and tilts her head slightly, taking in the painting. Sansa tries to do the same, to see the beauty that Margaery sees. Except, all she sees is a painting of a garden. Perhaps a well painted garden, but a garden nonetheless. She waits, idly glancing around until Margaery sighs fondly again and nods towards the next painting, a dog.

 

Sansa feels her heart clench at the sight of the large grey dog painted. It’s tongue is out, and it almost looks like its smiling. It reminds her of Lady, and she suddenly misses her dog more than anything else at the moment, even though its the first time she’s thought of her since classes picked up. “I have a dog back home that looks like this.”

 

Margaery looks up at her carefully, then back at the dog. “Pegged you for a cat person.”

 

Sansa doesn’t know why it cheers her up so much, especially because it wasn’t even meant as a joke, but she laughs and lets Margaery guide her away from the portrait-of-Lady-that’s-not-Lady.

 

They’re near the end of the gallery when Sansa spies a silver object tucked carefully inside a box on a table. Margaery, who had just made friends with a friendly old man and his grandson, easily lets Sansa slip away to inspect it. Its made of silver and has three heads that look something like lizards, one pointing left, another right, and the third facing front. Sansa feels drawn to it, and she reaches out to grab it when she suddenly feels a presence behind her. She snatches her hand away quickly and spins. The man standing behind her is large, with lots of tattoos on his forearm and his long hair pulled back into a bun. A thick beard covers the lower portion of his face and makes him look slightly intimidating.

 

“It’s a brooch.” The artist says simply. He moves closer to the box, standing directly beside Sansa, and pulls it out carefully. “I made it along with all the other junk in here. No one ever buys it and I’ve had it in almost every show I’ve done since I made it.” He sighs again, and moves to put it back down when Sansa stops him with a hand on his wrist.

 

“How much do you want for it?” She asks. The man looks down at the item in his hand and then back at her face.

 

“One fifty?” The man is hesitant, as if he doesn’t even consider his own work to be worth that much. “Honestly I’ll give it to you for free to get it off my hands. Might be bad luck.”

 

Sansa looks down at the object in his hand and holds out her own. He hands it over with an easy smile. “I’ll give you two hundred for it.” She watches as the artist’s eyes widen and he nods enthusiastically, obviously thrilled with the offer. “Thank you, Mr,” She trails off at the end, waiting for him to give her his name.

 

He pauses in the middle of setting up her card in the chip reader. “Friends call me Drogo. My mom calls me a dissapintment who went to art school instead of becoming a doctor,” He shrugs. Once he’s done he hands it back for a signature. “I’m kidding, by the way. About my mom, my friends really do call me Drogo.” Sansa nods and takes the tiny black box jewelry box that he hands her.

 

She meets up with Margaery near the door, where the girl is still talking to them about flowers, or thats what Sansa can pieces together from what she hears. Sansa waits patiently, juggling the box between her hands until she hears Margaery wish them a good night. “Make friends with old people often?” Sansa asks.

 

“Yes, actually. This time it was because they couldn’t figure out what kind of flowers were in the painting so they kept arguing about what it meant. They just so happened to find a third party who specializes in plants.” Margaery explains as they walk to the car. She waves goodbye to the receptionist, who rolls her eyes as they pass. “We should go get some food. Analyzing art works up an appetite.”

 

“Did you have somewhere in mind?” Sansa asks. Margaery clicks her seatbelt and nods. “Lead the way.”

 

When Sansa met her mere hours ago, she did not think that Margaery would be the type to drag a first date from an art gallery to a Mcdonald’s, but here they are, waiting in line between an employee on break, and a mother with two young boys. The restaurant is half full — with students on laptops, mothers with children, people on dates, and an old couple who seem to be happily sharing a container of fries between them. They both order nuggets, and they sit near the door to the play place. Children constantly run out with empty cups, and an employee with a mop and a dead look on their face has gone in more than once.

 

“You know, when you said you wanted to go someplace nicer than Starbucks I didn’t think you meant Mcdonald’s.” Sansa teases and steals one of Margaery’s fries even though she has her own. The brunette makes a sound of protest and snatches Sansa’s entire box. “Give me back my fries so I can be a good date and get to know you.”

 

Margaery easily surrenders the box and Sansa instantly shoves a few into her mouth. “How are you supposed to be a good date when you’re mouth is too full to speak to me?” She teases. Sansa struggles to swallow the fries but she gets them down with the help of her sprite.

 

“Okay, what do you study?” Sansa asks. _Better to start off simple, don’t want to ruin the date._

 

“Botany. I thought I was Poison Ivy for a solid year when I was six; tried to kill my brother with my toxins every time he came into my room.” Margaery says. A fond smile spreads over her face as she recalls the memories, and Sansa can’t help but think that she looks ever prettier when she’s reminiscing. “You?”

 

“English. I’m a big romanticism nerd.” Sansa says, blushing as Margaery raises her eyebrows at the mentioned literary movement. “I was very much obsessed with fairytales and the prince and princess thing. My cousin, Theon, used to pretend to be my knight when we were little. Our only problem was that we both wanted to kiss the prince.” She can still clearly see Theon, pouting when she had refused to let him kiss the stuffed bear wearing a plastic crown. They’d both been six, and Theon hadn’t taken to following Robb around yet. He spilt his time equally between badly singing duets while Grease played in the background with Sansa and wrestling in the mud with the boys and Yara.

 

Margaery laughs at that, covering her mouth when a nearby student with a laptop gives her a look. “If it makes you feel better, my brother and I also used to do Grease duets. He would make me be John Travolta.”

 

They both giggle wildly at that. Any bit of hesitation that Sansa felt about ruining everything melts away as Margaery launches into the tale of the time her brother, Loras, had gotten stuck in one of the garden trees and stayed their for three hours despite being scared of heights because he refused to let Margaery help him down. Margaery laughs whenever Sansa tells one of the many stories that are a result of too many Starks being in one place at one time, like the time when Arya convinced Bran to give up his wheelchair for her to take a trip down a hill near their uncle’s house, which ended in crutches and a cast around her right leg for Arya and a brand new wheelchair for Bran after the other had been mangled by a car who hadn’t stopped completely before Arya hit it.

 

Despite all the fun they’re having, Sansa feels an odd sadness as she thinks of her other friends. Sometimes she feels bad sharing her childhood with Jeyne, especially since they grew up in such vastly different situations class wise and she hates to make Jeyne feel like her experiences were worth any less because she didn’t get to go to Disneyland once a year. Daenerys was a completely different situation. The thought of the blonde sends a slight pang through Sansa’s chest. She suddenly wishes that Daenerys could be as open as Margaery, as willing to share about her family. Daenerys had no problem letting Sansa share, but anytime Sansa tries to get anything out of the girl she’d change the subject. She _knows_ that Daenerys doesn’t owe her any explanation for why she’s the way she is, but Sansa can’t help but wonder why the girl is so secretive about her past, especially with the family she has.

 

_That’s stupid,_ Sansa thinks. _Just because someone’s rich doesn’t mean she can’t have a bad childhood. Maybe her parents were never there. Maybe she doesn’t even have parents and its all trust money. Not everyone is as lucky as you._

 

“Sansa?” Sansa snaps out of her daze to Margaery waving her dainty hand in front of her face. “Go somewhere? I asked you how many siblings you have.”

 

“Oh. I’ve got uhh,” Sansa pauses, counting the number on her fingers. She almost adds Jon and Theon, but excludes them at the last moment. They’re cousins and she asked about siblings, she reasons. “Four. I have one older brother, Robb, and a younger sister, Arya. After Arya is our brother, Bran, who’s the one in the wheelchair. Reckon is the baby. Jon and Theon might as well be brothers with how often they were around, but they’re just my cousins.” she grabs another fry even though they’re getting cold and they aren’t as good as they were when they were hot. “You?”

 

“My oldest brother, Willas, breeds dogs and teaches at a college back home, which isn’t far. He was offered a job here, but he did want to work so close to grandma.” Margaery says. Sansa can almost hear the lecture about dog breeding that Daenerys would no doubt give. _Its unfair to the dogs that don’t come out perfect and also there are enough good dogs that need to be adopted. It’s not fair to breed dogs with the knowledge that they’ll have genetic problems all because rich people like dogs with flat faces._ “Next is Garlan, he’s a marine and the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.” _The US military isn’t sweet,_ The Daenerys in Sansa’s head says. _They kill innocent people and pretend like they’re doing it in the name of freedom._ “Loras is next, he’s my baby brother. Gayer than Elton John at a pride parade but I adore him.” Sansa can’t think of anything Daenerys could say about him at the moment.

 

Margaery briefly mentions her parents, Mace and Alerie, who she rarely sees due to the amount of work that they both put in to the family agricultural business, which is how the Tyrell’s made their fortune. She speaks highly of her grandmother, Doctor Tyrell, and she laughs when Sansa mentions how terrifying the woman is during class. Apparently, she’s not even the type to bake cookies for her own grandchildren, but she’s hilarious and also the person who taught Margaery how to prune roses and she’s never missed one of Loras’s high school events, whether its a slightly bad theater production or a soccer game, which is usually significantly better.

 

She seems to notice Sansa’s hesitance to speak about her own parents, so the girl takes a final sip from her tea and stands up. Sansa looks at her curiously as fixes her sweater. “C’mon, lets go on a walk. I want ice cream.” She holds her hand and wiggles her fingers slightly. Sansa gathers their trash on a tray and takes Margaery’s hand with her free hand. They toss their trash out on the way, and Sansa knows that she’s blushing over Margaery holding her hand.

 

Almost no ice-cream shops are open at near ten at night, but they find a tiny hole in the wall. Margaery skips up to the door and holds it open, urges Sansa to get three scoops instead of one, and pays the man behind the counter. They leave Robb’s car in front of the ice cream shop and walk down the block in silence. They come across a park about five blocks from the car, and Margaery almost squeals in excitement at the sight of the vacant swings.

 

‘Can we _please_ go on the swings?” She pleads. She doesn’t even wait for an answer before she rushes off, leaving Sansa to follow behind her. Margaery is haphazardly swinging back and forth already, doing her best to hold on without dropping her half eaten ice-cream cone. Sansa drops onto the one beside her, and it’s lower than Margaery’s. They both swing in silence with only the sound of the old chains squeaking.

 

“I’m really sorry if this date sucked,” Sansa finally says. She glances over and Margaery is already eating the last bit of her waffle cone. “Its just, I’ve never been on a date with a girl before.” She pauses and breaks a piece of the soggy cone off with her fingers. She lets the cone drop onto the wood chips and she can already hear Daenerys scolding her for it. “I didn’t even know I liked girls until I met you.”

 

Margaery gives her a smile and Sansa feels her face heat up for what feels like the millionth time since she met the girl. “Hey, There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” She nudges Sansa weakly with her hand to gain her attention, “Some girls like tall men. Some like short men. Some like hairy men. Some like bald men,” Margaery shrugs. “Gentle men, rough men, ugly men, pretty men. Pretty girls.” Margaery smirks as Sansa looks down shyly. “Most women don’t know what they like until they’ve tried it. And, sadly, so many of us get to try so little before were old and grey. Its okay to not know what you like yet.”

 

Sansa looks up again. “How do you know? Did someone teach you?”

 

Margaery laughs kindly and shakes her head. “No one taught me. I figured it out in my own time, which is something you should also have the chance to do. There’s no deadline for this stuff, Sansa. You can take your time — you _should_ take your time.” She reaches out her hand, which is slightly sticky from the ice-cream. Normally, Sansa would snatch her hand back, but its somehow endearing when Margaery does it. She’s sure she couldn’t pull her hand back if she wanted to. Suddenly, Margaery is like a lifeline. Her chest feels warm despite the award angle due to the chains between them.

 

They’re quiet again, and Sansa is thankful for it. She’s glad that Margaery is giving her the chance to put everything in her head where it needs to be.Then the girl turns to her and smiles. “And if I’m being honest, this is at least one of my top three dates that I’ve ever been on. Probably helps that its with such a pretty girl, huh?” They both look at each other at the same time, and the moment their eyes connect they both begin laughing.

 

Margaery stands up, not letting go of Sansa’s hand as she does. “Come on, its improper of me to keep a lady out this late.”

 

Sansa rolls her eyes and stands up. “If anything, you’re the lady. _I_ picked _you_ up.” They both begin walking, their hands swinging slightly between them. Sansa can still hear the creaking from the chains as the swings move. She tightens her grip of Margaery’s hands and the shorter girl does the same after a moment. Margaery beams up at her while they wait for a crosswalk. Sansa feels like she doesn’t ever want to let go.

 

_She wouldn’t let go of your hand either, Kid. S_ ansa gets pulled from her thoughts as Margaery drags her across the street.

 

 

 

“What now?” Sansa asks. They’re in Robb’s car, parked in the middle of Margaery’s street. The car hums lowly and the radio is playing a song from some 80’s movie that Theon had probably forced them to watch at some point. Margaery smirks and leans across the center console.

 

“Well, you stay here and I go inside. Then you drive home and make sure you get there safely.” Margaery reaches out and squeezes one of Sansa’s hands briefly before she opens her door and moves to exit the car. At the last moment, she stops and turns back towards Sansa. “Oh, and I do this.” She leans back over, pressing a kiss to Sansa’s lips. She’s gone just as quickly as the kiss was delivered.

 

Sansa is in shock as she watches Margaery search through her bag for her keys. Suddenly, the front door is whipped open and three squealing girls grab Margaery and yank her inside. Sansa stares up at the door for a moment longer, then at the windows where another few girls are obviously peeking at her through the windows. She presses the break pedal and shifts into drive, muttering to herself. “A sorority,” She whispers into the empty car. One of her hands leaves the wheel and gently brushes her lips. “I just kissed a sorority girl.”

 

A smile breaks out across her face, and she turns up the stupid song from the stupid 80’s movie that’s actually kind of nice now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no daenerys in this chapter but she will be back soon!
> 
> you guys probably 100% recognize the speech, but i added it anyway because I think its really important to sansa and it was such an iconic scene in the show. 
> 
> thanks to everyone who leaves a comment or kudos, they really give me the confidence to keep writing when I feel like i'm doing a bad job. 
> 
> im gonna try to start updating more regularly, hopefully i'll get a schedule down. 
> 
> thanks for reading :)


	4. I should hardly be celebrated for being a decent person

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's the next chapter. I tweaked my format a little after a suggestion from a commenter. if you guys like it better this way then let me know
> 
> this one is a bit shorter than the previous ones because I wanted to get something together for an update. 
> 
> as always, if anyone has any feedback i’d greatly appreciate it.

Sansa had almost expected Daenerys to reject her offer when she’d texted the girl with a request to meet at the coffee shop. So when Daenerys says that she isn’t free until Saturday Sansa readily agrees. She’d rather meet on Saturday and give her best attempt at mending their friendship so that their Monday coffee date isn’t as weighed down by it. She’s reading back the messages in her head when a hand appears, snatching her phone from her hand.

“Are you texting the guy you went out with last night? Jeyne told me everything!” Theon exclaims as his eyes scan the screen. His smug smile falls as he reads the texts. “Daenerys? That rich chick? You went on a date with her?” He shrugs and tosses the phone at Sansa. “I guess I was at least right about you being gay.”

Sansa sits up, preparing to kill him or herself. “First off, what the fuck! Second off, When did you and Jeyne become such good friends? Last time you two interacted you begged me to get you out of here without letting her burn holes into your ass with her eyes!” She reaches out and grabs the closest object, which happens to be a pillow in the shape of a dog emoji. She flings it at Theon, and he easily dodges. “Third off, I didn’t go on a date with Daenerys and you weren’t right about shit.”

Theon stares at her with a look on his face for a few moments. As soon as he raises an eyebrow in her direction Sansa’s resolve buckles and she sighs. “Okay! I did _not_ go out with Daenerys, but I did go out with someone,” She pauses again and Theon’s shit eating grin begins to slowly spread across his face as he realizes that she's going to tell him. “A girl someone.”

Theon leaps with excitement, pumping his fist in the air. “This is great! I knew you were gay as shit! Jon owes me money and Robb might depending on what you choose to identify as. By the way, if you want to help me get an extra twenty in my pocket then do not tell Robb that you’re bisexual even if you are. Well, you can tell him, but not until this semester ends! That’s when the bet ends. But then if you never tell them then I don’t get my money,” Theon pauses his ramblings to look at her, a hand on his chin as he thinks over his plan. “Do you think you’ll be up to saying you’re gay?”

“Get out of my room, Theon.” Sansa sighs, pointing towards the door.

The boy raises his hands in defense and backs towards the door. He’s halfway out when he sticks his upper body back in. “So yeah about that gay thing?” Another pillow flies at his face and he ducks behind the door.

“Go away!”

“Right. We’ll put a pin in it then,” Theon says. He closes the door completely, and Sansa finally thinks she's going to get a moment’s peace when the door opens again and Theon sticks his head back in. ‘Love you, Homo Buddy!” He blows a kiss and ducks out of the room as quickly as he came, laughing as he hears a muted scream come from behind the door. If he peeks back in he knows he’ll see Sansa screaming into the closest plushy surface, and its almost tempting enough to get him to look back in. But then again, he doesn’t want to die.

 

 

 

Saturday comes quicker than Sansa would have liked, even when she had three chapters to read, a pop quiz in her Spanish class — _Why did you take Spanish? Didn’t you get enough in high school? How do you not know how to fucking say stapler by now_ , Sansa internally scolds herself — and a shit ton of Theon and Jon’s antics thatthey somehow managed to involve her in. She’s nervous as she pulls open the door and gets hit with a blast of cool air. Doreah is behind the counter again, and she waves like she always does, but theres another girl behind the counter with her for once. She’s halfway to their usual table when she feels her phone buzz in her pocket.

She doesn’t check it until she’s siting down at their empty table. This is the first time that Sansa hadn’t either arrived with Daenerys or after her, but she still chooses the seat that puts her back to the rest of the shop. It is her seat after all. While she waits she decides to check her phone, if only to make sure that its not another text from Robb or Theon begging her to help bail Jon out of jail after another drunken fist fight. Its a text from Margaery, something about how terrible the movie that one of her brothers picked out is. Sansa almost responds, but she hears the bell above the door and she sets her phone face down on the table as Daenerys hurries over.

“Sorry I’m late! Rhaenys and Aegon didn’t—“ Daenerys stops, as if considering what she said before she drops into her seat. “I got caught up with some stuff and lost track of time.” She’s still breathing heavily.

“Late for you is somehow on time for me.” Sansa jokes. It earns a laugh from Daenerys, even though its soft and slightly awkward. The blonde goes quiet after that, and begins fidgeting with her hands. She’s wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big to be hers. Sansa cant help but wonder where Daenerys got the sweater, and if the person is her boyfriend or girlfriend or nothing at all. And for a moment, Sansa feels sick. It’s gone as quickly as it came, and she takes in a breath, determined to be the one to extend the olive branch this time.

“So, how have you been?” Sansa asks.

Daenerys glances over Sansa’s shoulder briefly, then makes eye contact. “Good. What about you? How was your date?”

Sansa sighs and begin bouncing her leg. It was a topic that she hoped Daenerys would want to avoid as much as her. “It was really nice. Margaery is a great girl. Im excited for our next one.” She’s being honest. She genuinely can’t wait until the other girl decides that she wants to go out again, and she’d be lying to Daenerys if she said she wasn’t. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

Daenerys raises her eyebrows and nods slowly. “What was it then?”

“I wanted to apolo—“ A cup is set in front of her, and then another in front of Daenerys. Sansa glances up at Doreah, who was already got an arm wrapped abound Daenerys’s shoulders and resting on the back of her chair, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Sansa glances over her shoulder, towards the other girl behind the counter who seems to be doing fine without Doreah breathing down her neck. _I was talking, rude ass, don’t you have coffee to make instead of crashing my apology_ , Sansa thinks as she watches Daenerys nod and then turn her head to reply quickly before pushing Doreah away, not far enough to dislodge her arm, Sansa notes. 

“It’s on the house.” Doreah says before turning her entire attention towards Daenerys. “are you sure you’re alright? Feeling okay?” The thought of Daenerys being close enough to Doreah to tell her about everything that’s happened leaves a bitter taste in Sansa’s mouth that she can’t blame on the steaming tea that she hasn’t even tried yet in front of her. She suddenly wants to be as far from the coffee shop and everyone in it who isn’t Daenerys as she can. She sits quietly as Doreah fawns over Daenerys, who is giving her awkward sorry smiles every time their eyes connect. It’s not until the new girl behind the counter squeaks out Doreah’s name in a cry for help does the girl leave.

They sit in silence for what feel like hours before Sansa lifts her cup. She takes a quick sip and recoils at the temperature of the liquid. Daenerys gives a small laugh at the action and Sansa offers one run return. Her cheeks are warm, and she knows she’s blushing because somehow Daenerys has the power to make her blush no matter what.

“I think I need to explain some things.” Sansa sighs.

Daenerys nods slowly, sipping her own drink far more carefully than Sansa had. “Do you?”

“Look, I’m really sorry that I didn’t tell you about the date. I should’ve told you as soon as I saw you and I definitely shouldn’t have tried to hide—“ A wave of frustration crashes over her as the new girl walks over, shy compared to Doreah, to also check on Daenerys. Sansa frowns as Daenerys leans up and pulls the girl down so that Sansa can’t hear whatever she says. But once Daenerys pulls away the girl nods and returns to the counter. Sansa knows that if she glances over her shoulder she’d either see Doreah and the girl intensely watching them or whispering between themselves about whatever Daenerys had said.

“Sorry. They’re—“ Daeerys glances over Sansa’s shoulder at them. She sighs and shakes her head after a moment, a fond look in her eye. “They’re sweet. Just a bit prone to worrying.” She smiles down at her cup and then looks back up at Sansa once her expression turns neutral. “Really, I’m sorry. Go on.”

Frustration at being unable to speak to Daenerys the way she wants bubbles over and Sansa glances briefly over her shoulder at the door. “Actually, do you think there’s anywhere else we could talk about this? Somewhere more private?” She holds her breath as Daenerys seems to consider her request.

Sansa watches as Daenerys’s left hand moves to fidget with the ring on her right ring finger. “W-Where?” Daenerys finally asks, snapping out of her trance.

“We could go to my room.” Sansa offers. But then the image of Jeyne and Theon ruining everything more than she already has pops into her head. “On second thought thats a bad idea.”

Daenerys stands up suddenly. She grabs her cup and makes a weak attempt to push her chair in. Sansa watches in confusion, worried that Daenerys has suddenly decided that it wasn’t worth her time. “Come on.” Daenerys says, and Sansa leaps to her feet like a bullet. Her chair scrapes across the floor and creates a loud screech that causes a few other people to turn in her direction. She pays no attention to them as she practically runs for the door with Daenerys behind her. Once they’re outside in the steadily cooling air, Daenerys holds up Sansa’s forgotten cup. Its the first real smile that Sansa has seen since Tuesday, and it fills her with warmth as she takes the cup.

 

 

 

Daenerys lives further from campus than Sansa thought. They don’t walk; Daenerys calls an uber and they ride to the apartment building in silence, both of them sitting on completely opposite sides of the backseat, pressed against the back doors. A small part of Sansa wants to reach out, hold Daenerys’s small hand that’s resting on the seat between them in her own, if only for the comfort of it. Instead she tightens her grip on her cup and hopes that she doesn’t do something stupid like spill it all over herself and a stranger’s car.

Sansa climbs out of the car first, looking up at the tall building infant of her. theres not quite as many floors as the dorm, but it still looks impossibly large. She hears Daenerys give a final thanks and then she’s joined on the pavement by the blonde. Daenerys begins walking up to the front doors and Sansa hurries after her. The lobby of the building isn’t too impressive, but its cleaner than any place most college students live, and the paint on the walls is still a vibrant white. There’s even a few potted plants that look perfectly alive, healthy, and real.

An old lady holding a dog steps out of the elevator door as soon as it opens. She smiles briefly at Daenerys before they both step inside and the blonde hits one of the tiny plastic buttons. Third floor, Sansa notes. Before the doors close, another couple sips inside, giggling and completely oblivious to the other occupants of the elevator. The boy hits the button for the sixth floor before turning his attention back towards the girl at his side. Sansa smiles briefly at the sight. They must be around Danerys’s age, and obviously very enamored with each other.

Sansa is so distracted by the couple the she almost forgets to follow Daenerys off of the elevator when it comes to a halt and opens its doors. There are two green potted plants by the elevator door when they sit, and Sansa briefly wonders who waters them as as he follows Daenerys down the hall. They stop at the last door on the right side, and Daenerys reaches into her the collar of her sweater and pulls out a bunch of keys and keychains connected to a lanyard.

Sansa isn’t surprised by the sheer amount of keychains that Daenerys has. Most of them are from random cities and countries. But there is one, a silver heart, that grabs her attention. It has none of the bold lettering or vibrant colors of the others, and Sansa supposes that its why it caught her eye. She’s able to catch a glimpse of the other side as Daenerys shoves a key into her lock. Its a photo of multiple people squeezed into the frame. The door, which had a name plate labeling it as number thirty eight, swings open and Daenerys almost shyly motions for Sansa to enter first.

The room is dim for a moment, then Daenerys closes the door behind them and flicks up a light switch. The room brightens significantly, and Sansa uses the additional light to take in the photos in the many frames scattered throughout the room. Daenerys isn’t in all of them, but she’s beaming like she’s never bee happier in the ones that she is in. A particular one catches her eye, because it seems to be the only one where she recognizes someone other than the blonde — Daenerys is sitting on what appears to be a log in sand with an arm wrapped around the shoulders of a girl with dark curly hair and brown skin. She doesn’t even realize that she’s moved to stand in front of it until Daenerys appears at her side.

“That’s my best friend. We took that last year in Spain.” Daenerys explains. She glances at it again, a fond look on her face, before turning and motioning towards the sofa. Daenerys walks over and sits against the arm of it, not realizing that Sansa had barely turned away from the photo. “She goes to WestU too. A full scholarship.” She sounds proud as she says it.

“She’s in my Spanish class. Professor Martell has never asked a question that she didn’t know the answer to.” Sansa says. She moves to sit against the other arm. Its a nice couch. The material is soft and so are the cushions. She wouldn’t mind sleeping on it compared to her dorm mattress.

Daenerys laughs and shakes her head in disbelief. “An awfully small world, isn’t it? Missandei is a genius, you know. She speaks nineteen languages.”

“Nineteen?” Sansa squeaks. “What is she doing in Spanish 101?”

Daenerys shrugs. “Easy credit, I guess. I didn’t even know she was taking Spanish this semester. But if I did, I would’ve thought she’d be in a higher class.”

Sansa is almost content to fall back in to the easy conversation that she’s so used to. She suddenly aches to be as much of a part of Daenerys’s life as the people in the frames, and she wants Daenerys to be a part of hers. And she knows that it won’t happen until they clear whatever obstacle Sansa managed to build in between them. So she says the first thing that comes to her mind.

“I’m sorry.” She cringes internally. It seems like that’s all she can say even tough she knows that there’s so much more that needs to be discussed.

Daenerys sighs and turns so her back is fully against the arm of the chair. When Sansa looks up, Daenerys is looking past her and at a spoton the wall. “You know, you didn’t have to lie to me, Sansa.” Daenerys says. She leans forward and rests her chin on her knees. “You could’ve just told me that you didn’t like me like that instead of running off. I promise I wouldn’t have been hurt.” She pauses for a moment. “Okay, maybe I would’ve. But I understand what rejection is and I know how to handle it.” Her voice is sharper by the time she’s finished, and Sansa almost flinches away from the tone. She’s never heard Daenerys use it before.

Of course you haven’t heard it. You barely know her, A part of Sansa thinks. it makes an odd heaviness spread through her chest.

The bravery she associates with Daenerys is back. There’s no other explanation for why she suddenly feels strong enough to scoot closer to gently take the blonde’s hand in hers. Daenerys allows it for all of five seconds. Then she snatches her hand back and turns so that her back is against the cushion and her feet are flat on the floor, so she doesn’t have to look at Sansa anymore. Every ounce of bravery that Sansa thought she had quickly turned to something else, and before she knows it, she’s crying her eyes out so violently it almost scares her. She was never much of a crier, but all the emotions she’s been siting on since Daenerys had walked away from her I the circle come bursting out, and Crying suddenly seems like the easiest way to release them. At least it doesn’t involve talking fro either of them.

She feels stupid for crying all over the couch of a girl she barely knows, especially when she’s reason that any of this is happening at all. “I’m sorry. Im so sorry.” She’s too busy wiping her eyes to notice the way that Daenerys has significantly softened. “It was just so sudden and I don’t know why I said yes but I’m sorry!”

Sansa doesn’t know how long she cries and repeats her apology, but by the time she feels calm enough to have a conversation like a normal person Daenerys reaches out and lightly rests her hand on Sansa’s shoulder, not even realizing the amount of comfort that the small gesture had brought. When Sansa feels brave enough to look up at Daenerys she’s surprised. Daenerys currently looks nothing like a chancellor’s daughter. Nor does she look like a girl who frequents protests. She looks lost, its a look that Sansa has never seen on her. For the first time, she looks like she doesn’t have everything she wants everyone to see neatly wrapped up and topped with a bow.

She just looks like a girl who’s seen something that she feels she had no right to see.

Daenerys’s other hand covers Sansa’s, and Sansa feels like she could cry all over again. Instead, she turns her hand over, lets their fingers tangle together, and she holds on tight.

“Sansa, its okay. Really.” Daenerys says. Her voice is soft again, like it had been in the coffee shop after the date fiasco. “Its not your fault that you didn’t want to go on a date with me. You didn’t know that you weren’t straight at the time and its perfectly understandable. Besides, even if you did know you were gay I wasn’t entitled to a date with you just because I wanted one.”

When Sansa finally looks up Daenerys is already looking at her. She offers a small smile and Sansa feels like a thousand pounds had just been lifted off of her chest. She’s sure that Daenerys is the best person on earth. Why else could she be so forgiving? _Honestly, Sansa, I should hardly be celebrated for being a decent person. Its common decency to understand that you aren’t entitled to peoples’ time_ , the Daenerys in Sansa’s head says.

She’s suddenly overcome with the need to be close to Daenerys, closer than she already is.

Daenerys tenses when she feels Sansa pull her hand free so that she can wrap her in a hug, but the tension slowly melts away. Daenerys is still slightly awkward as she brings an arm up to carefully wrap around Sansa’s waist. Her body is warm against Sansa’s, even if Daenerys is touching her like she has no idea how to.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa chuckles. It’s watery, and she sniffles after it, but she’s smiling. “I can’t imagine what you think of me; some girl you barely know crying all over your nice furniture.” She moves one of her arms so she can run her fingers over the material of the couch.

Daenerys laughs softly an pulls back just enough to make eye contact. “I could spill water on this thing and my mother would have it taken out back and burned before I could bother cleaning it up. She’s very good at buying, not so much at letting things leave the condition they were bought in.” Her laugh is stronger this time, and it makes Sansa want to laugh even though she doesn’t know enough about Daenerys’s mother for it to be funny. In that moment It’s obvious to Sansa how much Daenerys loves her mother, even from just the quip and eye roll. “But as long as my mother isn’t here I think it can handle a few of my friend’s tears.”

Thats when Sansa realizes that its the first mention of Daenerys’s mother at all. She’s still not even fully sure if Daenerys knows that she knows who her mother is. Even the tiny bit of information that Daenerys has given feels huge to Sansa at the moment. And maybe its because Sansa feels like they’ve crossed some sort of friendship milestone by letting Daenerys see her ugly cry or because she’s already in the blonde’s home where she keeps the things closest to her heart that Sansa feels like she’s finally getting to see the real Daenerys — the Daenerys that’s hidden behind jokes and charm and constant questioning of other people.

“Let’s watch a movie.” Daenerys says suddenly, interrupting Sansa’s thoughts. She pulls away and stands up, stretching her back. Sansa immediately misses the girl’s warm arm around her, but she nods in agreement anyway. Daenerys’s trademark smile returns. “Great! How do you feel about horror? There’s one I’ve heard is alright, but its in Spanish. How do you feel about subtitles?” Daenerys asks. the volume increases as se disappears down the hall and returns a few moments with her laptop.

“You speak Spanish?” Sansa asks while Daenerys is busy connecting the HDMI cable to her laptop so that they can watch the movie on the large TV. She doest bother asking why Daenerys doesn’t just use the smart TV instead of going through the trouble to connect her computer.

“I wouldn’t say I speak it,” Daenerys says as she opens her laptop and types in her password. “I understand it well enough to manage.” Sansa opens her mouth to ask when she learned, but Daenerys continues before she gets the chance. “My brother’s wife’s family speaks it. I spent a lot of time with them when I was little and I picked it up.” She shrugs as she walks away from the laptop to flick the light switch again. The room darkens except for the light from the TV as Netflix loads.

Sansa studies her carefully as Daenerys climbs onto the couch and curls up against the arm again. _You know two things about Daenerys Targaryen,_ Sansa thinks _. Her mother is the president of the school and she speaks Spanish._

The movie turns out to be less scary and more funny. At least to Daenerys. They’re halfway through by the time that Sansa realizes that she doesn’t even know who the characters are because she was too busy watching the blonde’s reactions. _Creep_ , she thinks quickly. Then Daenerys bursts into laughter at something one of the characters had said which hadn’t been translated by the subtitles — the movie seems to rely on their audience not speaking Spanish for the big twist — and turns towards Sansa with a smile on her face, her eyes crinkling in that way that makes Sansa’s heart speed up.

_Three things. You know three things about Daenerys Targaryen. One, her mother. Two, she speaks Spanish. Three, this girl will always be worth more trouble than she could ever cause you_ , Sansa thinks and smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is a bit emotional in this chapter but only because she’s my soft baby who’s never went through something like this before.
> 
> As for yara, there's still a few chapters before she's introduced because this fic is quickly becoming much longer than i originally planned, but she will be making an appearance soon.
> 
> i hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you for reading


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